


The ways of the old, old winds

by redbrickrose



Series: SPN: season 15 codas [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Castiel Makes a Deal with The Shadow (Supernatural), Coda, Episode: s15e15 Gimme Shelter, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:15:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27139951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redbrickrose/pseuds/redbrickrose
Summary: And I’m a goddamn fool, but then again so are you
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: SPN: season 15 codas [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1606942
Comments: 5
Kudos: 36





	The ways of the old, old winds

**Author's Note:**

> Title from ["The Lion's Roar"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gekHV9DIjHc%22) by First Aid Kit, which is my ultimate Dean/Cas song.

Castiel is a hypocrite.

He knew that, but he _feels_ it now, watching the shift in Dean’s face from concern, to disbelief, to dismay.

This, then - this conversation and the tiptoeing around landmines it's going to require, is exactly why he’d planned to leave. Call in the morning. Say...something. Try not to picture Dean’s face in the silence on the other end of the line. 

“Goddamnit,” Dean swears, turning to drop the whiskey bottle onto the table with an audible thud. “He just wasn’t going to tell us?” He asks more quietly, with his back to Castiel.

“You’re surprised?” Castiel watches the line of Dean’s spine, the curve of his neck, the hitch of his shoulders as he almost visibly collects himself. It’s not the kind of thing anyone in this bunker tells each other, and they both know that.

When Dean turns back around, Castiel forces himself to meet Dean’s eyes. There’s anger there, and pain, and something that looks a little like desperation too. That’s the conversation Castiel really didn’t want to have - the one about how this already was their "other way," about how they’re running out of options and they’re running out of time.

“No,” Dean says, bitterness coloring his voice. “I’m not even surprised that’s the catch, though I’m a little surprised it hadn’t occurred to us. Now that you’ve said it, of course. Of fucking course. Why would this go any other way? Cosmic beings and their cosmic agendas. Fuck.”

Castiel shares that sentiment.

“And you were gonna leave without telling us too?” Dean asks, something resigned in his voice and the twist of his mouth. That’s even worse.

“I’m telling you now,” Castiel says. 

Dean scoffs. “Sure. Because I caught you.”

Castiel takes a step forward, close enough to touch. He wants to touch; he always wants to touch, but it’s an even more intense desire since Purgatory, as his grace gets weaker. As time gets shorter. “Dean. He made me promise not to. He’s determined to go through with it, if it’s the only way.” 

“And you think we would let him.” Dean says, slowly, his face closing off as the pieces click into place. 

Castiel does think that, actually, and after everything, he doesn’t think Dean has a right to sound so betrayed.

He takes another step forward. “I don’t think you _could_ stop him if you wanted to. I don’t think any of us can, if he’s committed to it. But yes. I think it would kill you to do it, but I think you would do whatever you had to. But I’m not gonna let it get to that point.” 

“Damn it, Cas, then what’s the harm in telling us?” Dean says. “You think I don’t want another way? You think we wouldn’t want to help? You can't just leave without a word. You can't just say 'if I don't make it back' and then...” he cuts himself off abruptly and looks down.

Castiel looks away. Dean's right. It is unfair. But the harm is that Dean won’t believe there’s another way, and Castiel doesn’t want to fight.

The harm is the blow to morale for Dean and Sam when they can least afford it.

The harm, of course, is that Castiel is a hypocrite. He’s the one who taught Jack how much it’s acceptable to sacrifice for your family, after all, and Jack’s not above calling him on it. Not out of spite, but because he doesn’t know why he should keep Castiel’s secret if Castiel won’t keep his. Jack won't understand that parents sacrifice for their children, and it’s not supposed to work the other way around. 

They don’t have _time_ for the Empty deal to come to light now, on top of everything. They can’t afford the distraction. 

Or maybe Castiel is just a coward who doesn’t want to be there to see the look on Dean’s face when it does. Maybe all of the above

“I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't want to worry you until I knew more."

"You can't be serious. Like I'm not worried about everything, all the time? Like it wouldn't worry us to wake up and find you gone?"

Castiel flinches. He was going to leave a note. He wasn't sure yet what it was going to say. "I’m telling you now,” he says again. “And…” he hesitates; it’s a lot to ask, but “...I need you to not tell Jack that you know.”

“ _Cas_...”

“Dean, _please_.” Dean’s eyes meet his, searching, and Castiel looks back, steady and determined

Dean draws in a shaky breath, and deflates a little at whatever he sees on Castiel’s face before sinking back against the table and nodding as he passes a hand over his face. “Fine. I'll keep it to myself. For now.”

There are some things Castiel has been trying not to think too hard about, since Purgatory - how Dean is committed to demonstrating that he trusts him, how hard Dean is _trying_ to be open and give the benefit of the doubt, how determined Dean is to stop with the secrets between them. The aching irony of how this unnamed _thing_ between them is starting to seem truly possible now, when happiness is forbidden and it’s already too late.

Maybe Dean does have a right to feel betrayed; he just doesn’t know why yet.

Castiel looks at Dean then - really looks at him, the tension in his face, the shadows under his eyes, the bottle of whiskey behind him on the counter, sans glass. None of it looks good.

“Dean...what happened? With Amara?”

Dean shrugs. “I looked her in the eye and I told her I would never hurt her. And _I_ won’t, I guess. That technicality doesn’t really help. I’m so furious at her, and every choice she's made in all this, but I also still owe her, you know? For Mom." He huffs a laugh, no humor in it. "I wasn’t even sure I _could_ lie to her. That it would work.”

“You seemed pretty confident when you left.”

“Yeah, well. Fake it ‘til you make it.” He sighs. “Do you really think there’s another way?”

“There has to be.” Castiel isn’t really entertaining any other options.

“Where are you going? If you’re afraid…” Dean trails off, doesn’t say _that something’s going to go wrong, like something always goes wrong_ , but Castiel hears it anyway.

“Heaven to start with; try to track down Michael. Go from there.”

Dean sighs. “Yep. That could go wrong." He pauses and then asks more softly, "What can I do?”

“What?”

“Cas. How can I help?” Dean is trying so hard. Castiel can see the struggle, the part of him that wants to argue, pushed down so that this parting is as gentle as it can be. It makes Castiel ache.

“Don’t let Jack make any moves until you hear from me. Call Donatello again. See if you can get in touch with Rowena and if there’s anything she can turn up down there.” Castiel doesn’t want to know what’s lurking in the archives of Hell, but desperate times. They’re not going to find a way without serious consequences, that much is obvious by now. They just have to find a consequence they can tolerate.

Dean just nods. “Yeah, okay.”

“Thank you,” Castiel says, "I'll let you know as soon as I find anything." He moves to turn away when Dean leans forward to grab his forearm, pulling him back around.

“One thing, Cas. Or two, actually. You can’t talk like you’re not coming back. And answer your fucking phone when I call you.”

Castiel looks down at Dean’s hand, clutching at the material of his trench coat, and then up at Dean’s face, desperate and open, and gives in to that desire to touch. He reaches out with his other hand to grab Dean’s other arm and reels him in until he can slide his hand up Dean’s shoulder and around the back of his neck, pulling him into a hug. Dean stiffens for a moment in Castiel’s arms, and then relaxes, letting go of his grip on the trench coat and sliding his arm around Castiel’s waist.

“Hey, okay,” Dean says, surprise in his voice as he runs his hand up Castiel’s spine.

“I promise you, I will answer when you call.” Castiel can give him that.

Dean nods and drops his forehead against Castiel’s shoulder, tightening his grip.

Castiel isn’t sure how long they stand there. He's freaking Dean out a little; he knows it, tipping his hand that there's something else he's not saying. He can feel it in Dean's shuddering breath under his palms and in the apprehension spiking off Dean in waves that Castiel can detect even through his weakened grace. He’s never touched Dean like this, when it’s not a reunion or a resurrection or a definitive good-bye. He could get used to it, if things were different. If there was time.

Dean pulls away first, with a reluctant squeeze to Castiel’s shoulder. “Go, if you have to,” he says, voice thick. “I’ll stall until I hear from you.” 

Castiel nods and turns away. He turns back once, at the base of the stairs and their eyes catch and hold. Dean gives him a hesitant smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. 

He can feel Dean watching him as he makes his way up the stairs, until the bunker door clangs shut behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> Mostly I wrote this to try and get in Cas' head a bit. Dean comes a lot easier to me, but I think it's pretty rough to be Cas right now, and he's pretty depressed. So - angst forever.
> 
> Really, though, I just want them to cuddle. Sex is great and all, but they both need hugs.


End file.
